Wildfire
by GetUsWhileWereHot
Summary: Who is Andy Blackard compared to her sister Clove? Clove is notorious for her lethality, while her sister is around to stitch up the wounds of Clove's victims. All that changes when a bleeding Cato is dumped on their doorstep. And with the Games approaching Andy will have to choose where her true loyalties lie-with her sister, or with the only person who can see her for who she is.
1. Chapter 1

**So this is the first chapter of Wildfire, and I hope y'all like it. It's a little rough I know. Enjoy though.**

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**Wildfire – Chapter One**

When I woke up, the sky was still ink-y darkness, and the birds had not yet begun to sing. As I padded downstairs, avoiding the squeaky third step, I snatched my favorite sweater from the coat rack by the door and quickly yanked it on. The green fabric was frayed on the edges, and I sighed, because I knew that I would have to sew the edges again. Quite frankly, I just didn't want to waste money on buying another sweater when I could just fix it. Putting my sister through the District Two Training Academy, and just funding basic needs was a strain on my father and I.

It's been the three of us for as long as I can remember, and we manage well for a family of three. Father works from six in the morning until six at night, and my work hours are only slightly less. I, at least, like my work, being the town healer is useful at times. Sure there's the doctors at the Training Academy, but more often than not, going there after training makes you look weak; not to mention the accompanying cost that makes you wish you had just sucked in up in the first place.

I made breakfast for Clove and for Father, using up the last of the groceries. They had gone by faster than usual, and with the Games approaching, Clove was training harder than ever, and as a result, eating more than ever. Housework and cooking were my responsibility, along with all of my regular healing duties. Not that I could complain exactly. It was either this or the training academy, and that was much worse.

"'Morning Andy," Father said groggily, and I smiled at the childhood nickname. Mother had liked spices, so we were named Coriander and Clove. Go figure, "ready for another day?"

"Already looking forward to it." I said softly, placing his plate on the table, planting a small kiss on his cheek, and walking upstairs to wake Clove up.

My sister Clove was not something anyone could easily understand. Knowing even a fourth of Clove took years to understand, and even then you would have to move past her temper. Clove resembled me in no way shape or form; taking after my dad with dark brown eyes and hair, and a giant sprinkling of freckles. I took after my mother, fair skin and blonde hair, and wide pale blue eyes. It wasn't just our appearances that were opposites- it was our personalities too. Clove was violent and unpredictable, and her temper knew no bounds. I was the quiet and collected, preferring to take my time and to think.

"Clove, wake up. I already made breakfast." I poked and prodded her until a series of groans were emitted, allowing me to confirm whether or not she was still alive. In the mornings she was sometimes nearly impossible to wake up, and it just about drove me crazy trying to find ways to wake her up without getting myself killed.

"Must you always wake me up earlier than necessary?" She snapped, easing herself out of bed. At sixteen, she was tiny. Barely gracing my shoulders, Clove was a pint-size bundle of terror with a knife.

"Get changed." I snapped back, just barely ducking in time for her to sleepily toss her favorite knife at me. Her weapons of choice were knives, and when I say knives, I mean knives as long as your forearms at least. Not the best thing when she's had a bad day.

Clove trooped down the stairs fifteen minutes later, fresh uniform on, and her hair down for the only time today. As much as we got on each other's nerves, everyday since she had entered the Academy, I had combed and braided her hair. It was sort of our thing. I'd basically raised the girl, so I had to be both a mother and a sister for her. She inhaled her breakfast at record speed, and then patiently sat still as I combed my fingers through her hair dark brown hair and braided it through. The rhythmic motion of twining her chocolate brown hair together made me smile slightly, and once I was done I tied it at the bottom and patted her on the back.

"Are you nervous for today?" I asked softly, as soon as Father left for the quarry. Monday's were always rank day, and it was never pretty.

"Of course not." Clove's protective shell already was creeping up, and I instantly backed off. My sister was tender and loving when the situation called for it, and emotionless when needed. If anything, I acted like the over-emotional younger sibling, and she spent her entire life trying to protect me. I changed clothes quickly, and began the walk to the Academy. We lived a few miles, and by now, the walk was part of life, and didn't seem like anything. We didn't exchange a single word the entire way, and Clove did her best to ignore the stares of the younger students. Clove was famous around the district. Even in the communities on the outside, everyone knew that Clove was by far the obvious choice for the female tribute this year - a thought that both terrified me and made me insanely proud.

"I'll be back at four." I reminded Clove, linking our little fingers together before beginning the walk back home. Linking little fingers was about as much affection I could show around this place without greeting Clove into trouble for being weak. Affection was not something you showed off anywhere near the Academy. As I left the center, I could feel something off. By no means was I a fighter, but I knew more than most people.

Left, right, left, right- I could hear a walking pattern that was not my

own. Paranoia began to flood my veins, and my pulse started to hammer, my feet moving faster, and the steps behind me automatically copying my movements. There was someone clearly following me.

Panic clogging my throat, I turned sharply into an alley, and immediately broke into a run. The end of the alley was getting closer and closer, and I slipped my hand inside of my pocket, silent thanking Clove for insisting that I carry a knife with me at all times. With my hand curled around the hilt of the knife, I pushed my legs harder; the burning in my lungs becoming stronger with every step I took. I could not slow down now. I had heard too many stories about what had happened to girls who had been caught unarmed at the wrong time. I wasn't going to be one of them. I couldn't be.

Pounding steps echoed behind me, and I whipped around another corner, hoping to buy myself time, anything, just a chance for survival-

I drew my knife and held it out at the same time that I was thrown to the ground. A hand reached out, easily flicking the knife away with a laugh. Damn, I'm in trouble. My only defense was that knife, and given my lack of training, I was easy prey. So I settled for the easiest option. I opened my mouth and started to scream.

"Shut up, you little bitch." The man above me snarled, bringing his hand down across my face- hard. My teeth rattled, and the stinging pain that accompanied it shocked me. I glanced at my attacker quickly, easily recognizing the academy crest embossed on the black fabric of his shirt. He must have followed me. _Think Andy, think_, I thought over and over, willing myself to remember something, anything, from the times that Clove had thought to try to teach me to protect myself.

Unlike her, my body wasn't one big muscle, and the hulking mass above me was definitely stronger. I ripped one of my small hands from his grasps, lucky that both of us were sweaty, and used it to push against the pressure point in his neck. He flinched, and that was enough to allow me to run. My entire chest felt like it was on fire, and I could feel fatigue settling into my bones. Stupid, stupid mistake. I was weak, and that's why he caught me once more. Again I was thrown to the ground on my back, my body taking the full impact this time. The blood from where he had hit me was beginning to pool in my mouth, and I could taste nothing but bile and the revolting coppery taste of blood that I knew all too well.

"You're a fighter," He said, voice too low to mean anything good. I had managed to get only one hit on him the entire time, and I tensed in preparation of the pain that I knew would accompany it, "I can fix that." He whispered, and the few droplets on blood from his mouth dripped onto me. This was the end of the line. He was rape me, and then leave me here in the middle of the street for everyone to see. I was going to be one of the hundreds of girls who had been stripped of everything but her own skin and then left for the entire world to see. And Clove would have to walk home alone.

He reached behind him and used his own knife to slowly drag it across my neck, making a shallow cut that would definitely scar the pale skin just above the hollow at the base of my neck.

"One move, and I slice your throat open." The knife held steadily against my throat, I couldn't fight back as he began to rip my shirt from my body, buttons popping off and scattering across the paved roads. If I was lucky, I would live. If I wasn't, things would get a lot worse. Clove wouldn't be able to go to the academy anymore_- oh god that's all she's ever worked for, I can't just take that away; it'd be all my fault, and my fault alone. Why can't I be a big sibling and not some pathetic for once-_

The hulking mass above me was removed, and trance-like I moved my head towards the source of the noise. Blonde hair and barely contained muscles flashed around in a scuffle, ending with my savior picking up my discarded knife and holding it to the man's neck.

"I won't hesitate to do it. Give me one reason why I shouldn't." I strained my ears harder to hear his whispers, and the deadly monotone he used chilled me right to the bone. The only sound emitted from the man was whimpers, and the blonde haired one slowly, but deliberately, drew the knife across his throat- deep enough to scar heavily, but light enough that he would suffer, and not bleed out all at once on the streets- just as the man had done with me seconds before.

I flinched, and the small breakfast I had eaten earlier made its appearance on the road. I gagged again, heaving several more times, even though I knew there was nothing left in my stomach to throw up. The thought of that man's hands on me brought on a whole new round of gagging and nausea, but I clamped a hand over my mouth, and with a small sniffle pushed myself up.

I wiped the vomit from my mouth and chin, and pushed myself up, teetering on my toes once I was standing.

"What do you want?" I deadpanned, eyes downcast. The blonde one was too wearing an academy uniform, and I guessed that he was probably late this morning.

"Your gratefulness is astonishing. If I hadn't been here you probably would be lying naked and dead in the street." I bit back a retort, and silently begged that he would just leave. Of course I was grateful, but I did know what guys like him expected in return, and I wasn't repaying him in sexual favors.

"I was handling it." He snorted in reply, flicking his blonde hair out of the way.

"Handling? You were just about to be raped in the street!" I glared at him, my eyes widening once I got a good look at him. No wonder he was able to pull that man off of me so easily. His muscles were lean, and with every movement I could see them flexing. His hands were huge, and well-calloused from training. Everything about him screamed power, and I was intimidated. I didn't have the advantage, and I didn't like it.

"Thank you." I said through my teeth.

"My name is Cain by the way. Cain Malloy. You've probably heard of me at the Training Academy." Arrogant. Why am I not surprised? As much as I hated to admit it, all the trained careers of Two were the same-cocky, arrogant, rude- all brawn and not brains.

"I can't say I have." I said, turning on my heels and beginning the walk-turned-run home.

"So why isn't a girl like you at the Academy?" This guy wasn't giving up. He had to be at least a year or two younger than me, and it seemed that the 'don't ask' rule meant absolutely nothing to him. Not only that, Cain seemed to be the perpetually sunny type too, seeing as his personality immediately changed and he began to smile from ear to ear.

"I don't train." I cut in.

"Whoa. I've never heard of that. I thought everyone of age in the district went to the Academy." Cain's blonde eyebrows shot up his forehead in surprise, and the expression was gone as quickly as it had appeared.

"Never mind. So what do you do?"

"Are you always this nosy?" I snapped back, whipping around to face him.

"Okay, okay; you caught me. But what do you actually do?" His hands raised in surrender and then lowered as he fell into step beside me.

"I'm healer. Maybe you've heard of me." I mocked from earlier, casting a satisfied smile in his direction.

"Haha, very funny. You're that girl aren't you?" Unfortunately, I was _that girl. _I was somewhat of legend around District Two. Apparently I was the only girl in the last twenty or so years to refuse training; and down at the Academy, my name was still gossiped about by the catty girls in the locker rooms.

"Unfortunately." I left it at that, walking away and going home, my body still shaken and trembling from what had transpired minutes ago. I could still hear Cain's footsteps faintly behind me, and it comforted me to know that he was there for me.

"Aren't you going to get in trouble for being late?" I shouted back at him.

"Probably not," he smirked and continued, "I'm the second best in my age division."

"And how old are you, exactly?"

"How about this, girl. You tell me your name and age, and I'll tell you my age and follow you home."

"I'm eighteen." The wind carried my soft reply to him. Something about giving my name to him scared me. I had only ever had one real friend, and no one liked me. Everyone who went to the Academy hated me because I dropped out of training, and as a result, the entire town ostracized me.

"And you name?" Prompted Cain. I really did want to know his age If he was of age, he could keep an eye on Clove at training, something I would never be able to do.

"Coriander Blackard. Everyone calls me Andy though."

"I'm sixteen." I nodded slowly, keeping my pace up. We walked quietly for a few minutes, and neared my street.

"I'll see you around Cain."

Cain followed, keeping a fairly far distance between us the whole time. I could see him leave only once I was safely inside with the door locked. Despite what had just happened, I knew I would have to take care of people soon, so I went upstairs, tossing the remainders of my clothes in the trash, and putting on a clean set from my drawers. Going into the living-room-turned-care-room, I got out my supplies, and set to work on myself. The cut on my neck was no longer freely bleeding, but it did need to be cleaned and bandaged. I washed the cut out, and applied the least amount of disinfectant as possible. Everything was so expensive, and I hated to use any of my supplies on myself. I cut a fresh strip of cloth, and bandaged the cut, taking care to make sure it wasn't very noticeable. Not long after, four knocks sounded on the heavy wooden door, signaling someone who needed my assistance. The Academy already didn't like me, and the fact that I took money away from the Infirmary there by treating people at my house definitely wouldn't go over well with them. Four quick knocks meant someone wanted my care, and four loud bangs meant that it was an emergency. I opened the door, letting the events of the day slide out of my mind and let a small smile slide onto my face instead.


	2. Chapter 2

**Here's the second chapter... Hopefully you guys like it enough to read the second one! Sorry if it's a little short, I took a big chunk out to save for later on in the story**

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**Wildfire – Chapter Two**

"Hey Andy." It was Ebony, my only other friend. Because we didn't train at the academy, all of our other peers shunned us, and all we had was each other. Which was fine, especially since she was permanently sickly, and I was the town healer, so our time together was multiplied. By the looks of things, her lungs were troubling her again, and I rushed to get the chest rub I was forced to always make extra of. Ebony was born sickly, and she's always had terrible lungs. They filled up with fluid and became congested, and I knew that deep down she most likely wouldn't last that long. The constant toxic air from the quarry permeated through all of Two, and babies like this weren't uncommon. Ebony was just lucky that she's survived so long. Most don't make it past five years old. Living on the Fringe will do it to you, not quite rich enough to live close to the Victor's Village, yet wealthy enough to be far enough away from the brothels and whorehouses; both of which were all too popular.

"Congested again?" I asked as Ebony lay down on the designated table for the sick patients. She nodded her head, inky hair flopping around. I rubbed the homemade chest rub as liberally as possible, and was forced to watch in horror as a sudden coughing fit took over. The deep, racking coughs came from the depths of her lungs, and echoed through my thinly walled house. Then came after. Ebony's entire body heaved with each fit, and she could barely drag a single breath of air past her lips before the grey sludge began to crawl its way up her throat, and into the bucket placed on the ground for that exact reason.

When she was done, I resumed with the vapor rub, wiping my tears with my stray hand. The sludge always comes first, and after is the blood. And the patient will seem to cough up all the blood in their weak body, until ultimately you end up drowning from all the fluid in your lungs. The sudden reality of what would happen after Ebony's death hit me. I would have no one; I mean sure, I would have Clove, but only after training. I didn't have any other friends obviously. I refused training years ago, and I was still paying the price of it.

"How much longer do I have?" Ebony rasped, wiping the stray drops of blood from the corners of her lips.

"Don't talk like that," I chastised, "positive thoughts only, okay? You've made it this far, you can't go now."

"Andy, you and I both know that once the sludge comes, it's the end of the line." Nothing I could have said in that moment would have meant anything to her. Ebony's coughed bounced on the walls, filling the entire room with the choking rasp of poisoned lungs.

Ebony didn't talk for the rest of her visit. Not that I expected anything else from her. What are you supposed to say when you know you're going to die soon? After the medicine had taken some affect, I got up, giving her the rest of the chest rub, hoping that it would help even if I knew it wouldn't.

"I'll see you around Andy." She whispered.

"Please don't leave me, Ebony." I begged her, clutching at her bony hands. Tears ran down my cheeks, and I stubbornly rubbed them away. She's the only friend I have, and she can't leave. She just can't.

"You know I will eventually. You have to learn to let go of me. I've been like this since we first met each other, and I'm tired of this. I'm tired of living like this." I could see on her face the effort that her words cost. From something as easy as talking, her small chest was heaving, and I was reminded of when we were little, and how for a few years, Ebony couldn't even go outside without fearing that she would choke to death. I'd felt so bad for her that I started healing on the side, and finally took over the town healing position full time three years ago. The only thing that had prolonged her suffering was me. I had insisted on giving her anything and everything that could possibly help her over and over and over again, and now here we were, three years later, and Ebony is dying in the worst way possible.

"Ebony." By now I was full on sobbing, and pleads spewed from my mouth incoherently. I threw my arms around her, clutching at her thin shoulder bones.

"You'll be fine once I'm gone," she breathed, "I have faith in you, Andy. You're strong, and you can get through this."

I don't know how long we stood like that, two pathetic girls holding onto each other for dear life. After a while her brother Jace came, handed me enough money for the chest rub, plus a little extra, and Ebony was too weak to walk home, so he carried her. Once she was gone, the full gravity of what was happening hit me. My best friend was going to be dead by the end of the week if she was extremely unlucky, and then I would be alone. If I could for once, keep my emotions out of my work, maybe losing Ebony wouldn't be quite so hard, it'll still hurt because she was my best friend, but it hurts even more because I'm her only caregiver.

Until the sky darkened slightly, I was a sobbing mess on the kitchen floor. Only when I have finally glanced at my watch, and then at the sky, do I put together how much time has passed. It was three o'clock, and I have yet to buy food for dinner and leave to pick up Clove. I thrust my feet back into my boots, and set off at a run towards the market, glancing behind me more than frequently in case there is a repeat performance from this morning. Once I have bought and paid for two armloads of groceries, I went as quickly as I can to the Academy, purple beginning to leech into the clouds when I finally get to the entrance. Years of memories flooded back as soon as I crossed under the stone walkway. Only years earlier, it had been me in Clove's position. And I still remember every moment of it.

There was a time that I didn't feel bad about hurting someone else. That I would do anything to feel the rush of victory and the dangerous feeling of dominance. After that one day, I wasn't the same. I skipped training, and then stopped going all together. The Council eventually came after me of course, and tried to sell me on the idea of glory and fame and bring pride to my district again, all to no avail. I'd completely and totally lost it that day. And now my sister was the ruthless killer, and she trained and held the same knives that I had done unspeakable things with. This was as close as I get to the Academy most days.

I hurried to the deserted drop off area, and saw Clove waiting there, head in her hands. My heart ached for her, mostly because I knew that she thrived off of consistency, and I had broken the unsaid promise I made every day to be there for her when training was over.

"You're late." Clove spat. Uh oh.

"I was-"

"I don't care. Let's go home." Anger flashed through her eyes, and more guilt flooded through me.

Clove walked ahead of me, not even bothering to wait for me. She didn't speak to me, and I knew better than to try to talk to her. We arrived home, and I opened the door, and wordlessly began dinner. Clove sat at the kitchen table with stony silence, her brown eyes boring a hole into the back of my head. Okay, she was angry. Like really, really angry. On one hand, I could kind of understand why she was mad. Our daily routine was simple and structured; and it never changed. Everyday I woke up, made breakfast for Father and Clove, once she was dressed and Father left, I braided her hair and walked her to the Academy. After I took care of all of my healing duties, and around two I would go to buy groceries if needed and then pick her up and make dinner. Every day followed the same cycle, and that's what moved us along as a family. And today, I ruined it.

"How are my two favorite girls?" My father smiled as he walked in, and I couldn't help but let that brighten my mood considerably. He gave each of us a kiss on the cheek, and sat down at the table while I finished up.

"So how'd the ranking go today, Clover-Leaf?" Clove's braid whipped around as she turned to face him, and with a screech, she pushed her chair away from the table.

"I'm first as always." She stated before allowing her face to an actually smile.

"Oh Clove, that's great! I'm so proud of you!" My heart soared with the news at the same time that my stomach dropped. The Games were an essential part of living in District Two. You could bring the ultimate pride to your family and to your district, and the rewards were unparalleled. I'm pretty sure that I'm the only one who sees the other effects. The paranoia, and the nightmares that never seemed to end, made sure that you never forgot your time in the arena if you're lucky enough to win. By Clove being ranked number one, she was more than likely the definite tribute for this year's games. Although they were still a few months away, training was harder than ever, and soon, they would pull the top twelve boys and girls for Mock Trials, a two week long stay in hell. If Clove survived, she would be the tribute. She would volunteer at the Reaping, and then she would leave us. Somewhere deep down, even though I held so much confidence in her abilities, a small part of me still felt that she would return, but in the marble coffin all lost tributes came home in.

"Good job." I smiled, trying to remain positive for Clove's sake.

"Uh, thanks." Obviously she was still bitter about the whole late thing.

I picked through my dinner, and promptly excused myself after the mandatory fifteen minutes at the dinner table. Walking upstairs and into my room, I dragged the chest under my bed out, and began to count the money inside. For the past two years, every cent that wasn't needed by my family or for supplies went into this chest, and I would need every bit of it to make Clove the clothes she would need for Presentation Week.

For seven days, the female and male tributes were formally presented to the entire district, starting with the Council of Elders, and ending with a district wide party to celebrate. The entire thing was just a way to showcase taking the tributes to their slaughtering, a precursor to what would happen to them at the capital. It was all in good fun and for practice of course. It was during Presentation that they would pick their angles, and have time to perfect them for the sponsor waiting in the Capitol. At one time, this would've been me, and the leftover money I had from planning my own Presentation week went into planning for Clove's. I didn't have enough to buy her seven new dresses, but I would have enough to make them myself, which is exactly what I planned to do.

"Andy?" Clove's soft voice crept under the door, and I called out,

"Come on in," carefully hiding the chest back under my bed, and picking up a book from my bedside table, "what's going on?"

Clove's awkward stance signaled that she wanted to talk about something that she _definitely _was uncomfortable about.

"Listen, Andy… I'm sorry I got mad, erm, I was just really, uhm, excited to tell you, and then I couldn't. So, yeah, I'm, uh, sorry." Well, that's as much of an apology as I was going to get out of her. Clove didn't apologize as a general rule. For her to even come up here in the first place was enough to make my eyes water like crazy. I stood up, towering over Clove by several inches, and threw my arms around her, allowing the flood gates to open. I sobbed into her small shoulders, and Clove's hand came up to awkwardly pat me on the back.

"I'm just really proud of you," I sobbed, tears soaking her uniform, "and I just want you to know that. You're my sister, and I love you." Before I could get any more emotional, Clove detached me and guided me to my bed, sitting me down and leaving her arm across my shoulder.

"I'll be fine, Andy." I could hear her words in my head, and I believed them. She would be fine. Clove knew everything about surviving, and she couldn't be beaten by anyone. She had trained her entire life for this, and every moment of her life had been focused on winning, and coming home to us; bringing pride to District Two. But that small part of me bubbled up again, and I found myself repeating in my head, _I really hope you're right, I really hope you're right, Clove._


	3. Chapter 3

**Here's the third one! I think it's a little longer... Wanna know a not so secret secret? HERE'S CATO**

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**Wildfire – Chapter Three**

I made sure that I was perfectly on time the rest of the week; and it easily became clear the toll that the intensive training was taking on Clove. Her body dragged around, and her normally excellent reflexes looked like they were moving through molasses constantly. Every time I went to pick her up, she stumbled the entire way home, and refused any help that I offered her, viciously snapping at me for even offering in the first place. As a result, my stress was through the roof, and I knew that there was absolutely nothing I could do to ease it.

After walking back home in the early morning, I waited for Ebony to show, half knowing that she wouldn't. She had not come to the house all week since I had last seen her. I heard sharp banging on the door caught my attention, and I sprinted to the door.

My smile immediately faded when I opened the door to see Jace, instead of Ebony.

"She's gone, Andy. She's really gone," Jace's face contorted into rage as continued, "she must have snuck out last night. She was out past curfew, and came across a couple of Peacekeepers, and when she refused to come home, they whipped her." My heart felt like it was stopping, and the faded blue paint on the walls began to swim. I already knew that the Peacekeepers held no mercy, but more often than not, they tended not to crack down on District Two as much as they would've in other districts. Especially if you lived on the Fringe, and not in the slums.

"When did you find her?" I asked hoarsely. After seeing my fair share of Peacekeeper victims, I knew that Ebony died from the whipping. The Peacekeepers were good at what they did, and when you were whipped, you were whipped within an inch of you life. My guess was that Ebony just wanted to walk on her own and not have to be carried for once.

"Ajax came and got me. They were right outside of his house."

"Is he at home still?" Jace nodded.

"The funeral is tomorrow at sunset, Andy. She told me to give you this." Jace pressed something into my hand, and my eyes watered once I got a good look at what it was. Ebony had given me back the matching necklaces we shared. My fist curled around the familiar silver, and my free hand shot up to my neck, feeling my own. When I looked up, Jace was gone, and I still had no answers. I ran the few blocks over to Ajax's house, and pounded my fist on the door.

"Andy? What-"

"Tell me what happened! Dammit tell me!" I screamed at him, forcing my way into his house. I'd only met Ajax a few times, but he was my lifeline right now.

"I heard screaming last night, so I looked out of the window and saw that it was Eb, so I ran to get Jace. By the time we were back, she could barely speak, and Jace had to hold her while she died." His words hit me like a lead weight. I'd failed to notice the now pink stains on Jace's shirt, and it hit me that he was covered in his own sister's blood.

"Damn," I said, sinking into a nearby armchair, feeling much older than eighteen. Ajax sat down across from me, and we both sat in silence, neither of us willing to break it.

"I can't believe she's gone." Ajax nodded his head slowly. As much as losing Ebony hurt it didn't feel unexpected. We had been expecting her to drop dead for years now, and I had said way too many almost-goodbyes to my best friend, believing that the next day we would be putting her in the ground. And now here I was knowing that just feet from where I was sitting, my best friend asphyxiated on her own blood, and was whipped to death. I was tired of everyone dying all the time, and I was tired of no one caring about blood or death anymore. All of us knew that death was not a big deal anymore, and I'd seen way too many of my peers murdered in the Games.

"I'll see you tomorrow." I muttered, rising from my chair. I didn't even pay attention to what Ajax had to say, and I stubbornly wiped the tears from my eyes as I left. Once I was home, the feeling of loss flooded my mind, and I couldn't stand it any longer.

"Dammit!" I screamed for what seemed to be the millionth time. For once, I was feeling anger, and I took it out. I screamed and cried and beat my fists against the floor again and again. My voice ran hoarse, and I could barely feel the dull ache in my hands anymore. I just couldn't believe that she was gone. It felt like my heart was burning, and it just wouldn't stop. Tomorrow would be worse. We'd have to put her into the stone tomb that all of our dead went into, and then seal her in. I couldn't imagine even seeing Ebony that way- cold, unmoving. No one else had had the chance to see her as I had. To her family she was a ticking time bomb, set to die any minute, and another mouth to feed. But with me, she was full of life, and her laughter never ended. Her sense of humor knew no bounds, and for someone who had been out of school for being sick her whole life, she sure knew a lot. That was the Ebony I knew, the one that laughed and smiled every day, and cared more about others than she did herself. She accepted my past, even when I couldn't.

Knocks came on the door, and I dragged myself off of the floor to answer it. I was in no way in the mood to help others, but it was my job. This is the world we lived in. People died all the time, and we had to learn to have a thick skin, or else you wouldn't survive. I took a deep breath, and jerked the door open, only to be greeted with the unbearable sight of blood everywhere.

"Oh my god!" I shrieked, pressing myself against the open door, making a path for the three Academy students supporting what looked like a nearly dead student. I couldn't make out any features on his face, and blood was pouring from a stab wound deep in his stomach. Immediately, I jumped into action. Timing was everything in an emergency, and the wound on this guy looked deep, and despite the pressure on of his carriers was holding on it, it showed no signs of the bleeding stopping anytime soon. I ran ahead, sweeping an arm across the table in the living room, clearing it of books and papers.

"Bring him in here!" I shouted, grabbing bandages and disinfectant. One of the carriers faces' came into view, and Cain was revealed to be one of them.

"Andy he got hit in practice. I don't know what to do. He'll lose his rank if he goes to the infirmary." Cain's face was emotionless, but his eyes told a different story. Concern was written in his features as I glanced down to the patient with realization. Although his eyes were closed, both faces had the same pronounced jaw, high cheekbones, and blonde hair. This had to be Cain's brother.

"Here," I said, shoving gauze into Cain's waiting hands, "put pressure on the wounds. He's going to need morphling." I snatched a small vial of morphling out of a small box of expensive Capitol drugs kept just for occasions like these. Cain's brother was bigger taller than he was, so I increased the dosage in the syringe and jabbed it into the vein in the crook of his elbow.

"Cain, I need you to tell me everything about what happened to him." Checking the flow of blood, which had thankfully started to slow by this point, I spouted directions at Cain. The other two students vacated the room as soon as I medicated Cato, which I could understand. You don't worry about anyone but yourself, and that was the first thing the Academy taught you.

"Cato was in the ring, and he was just sparing with Darius. Someone said something, and Cato turned around and couldn't get out of the way fast enough." I hummed along, and placed several blood staunching leaves on the wound to get the blood to clot. After, I would have to suture the wound shut, and he'd probably be shaky from blood loss, but he'd be just fine.

"Keep pressure on it," I whispered. District Two never focused on first-aid, so nearly all of the Academy students were near useless when it came to healing. He was lucky that Cain knew as much as to keep pressure on the wound.

I peeled back the gauze after a moment, and the bleeding had all but stopped. Slowly and methodically, I stitched the wound on Cato's abdomen back together, trying not to think too heavily about what I was doing. Giving stitches was definitely not my favorite thing to do, but I faced it all too often. Knife, sword, and fight wounds found their way to me a few times a week sometimes, and I can't remember how many times I've had to sew Clove up. Not only that, but all too often, students on the receiving ends of her knives happened to find their way to me as well. The silk thread pulled through the puncture, and millimeter by millimeter, it slowly closed up, and I knotted the thread and cut it. Finally. Bile rose in the back of my throat, and I pushed it down, slathering an ointment over the wound and winding a bandage around his entire stomach with the help of Cain. There was silence as I washed my hands of his blood and washed down the table with a harsh smelling bleach. The stench burned my nostrils, and I scrubbed my hands until the skin around my nails was red and raw, and the skin across my knuckles burned to be stretched.

"Let's move him upstairs to one of the bedrooms. He's going to have to stay until the morphling wears off at least. You'll probably want to stay too." Judging from Cain's exhausted features, he was as tired as I was. Cain got Cato settled in, and I went to my room to change out of my now bloodstained clothes.

"When can he get back to training?" I leaned against the doorway before answering.

"Today is Tuesday, so probably next Monday." Cain's face flooded with color, and he paced over to me.

"I don't think you understand, Coriander. He is set to be in Mock Trials in two weeks. He has to be at the Academy tomorrow." My guard was definitely up. Cain's mood had changed from calm to angry within seconds, and I didn't want to be too close when he blew his top.

"Cain you need to calm-" His hand tensed into a fist as he cut me off.

"Don't fucking tell me to calm down, _girl._" My mouth shut on its own. Casting one more look at his brother, Cain nodded his thanks to me, and opened his mouth to speak again.

"He better be at the Academy tomorrow morning." Even after he'd left, Cain's threat still held power over me, and I sunk down to the floor to think. Odds were, if I didn't have Cato at the Academy tomorrow, Cain would be livid. And the Academy would be livid. And Cato's rank would drop, which would mean that the two most lethal males in the Academy would be out for my blood. There were no other options. I'd just have to hope that the stitches would hold up through the vigorous training they had, and that Cato would at least be able to get up and move around on his own. I checked my watch, looking down to see that it would be time to leave to pick up Clove soon. And judging by how asleep Cato looked, he wouldn't be waking up any time soon, which was just fine with me. If he was anything like Cain, then he would be madder than Clove was in the mornings when he woke up, and I didn't want to be in a room alone with him when that happened.

"Andy! Get down here!" I recognized the voice of my neighbor Katarina, and trooped downstairs to meet her.

"I know you'll be looking for fabric and things for Clove, and I found this and thought you might like it." In her tanned arms, she held out a large bolt of thick burgundy fabric. I'd never touched anything so smooth, and I was sure that that fabric had not come cheap. I had no idea how she had known about my plans for Clove, but she somehow she had.

"Katarina, I-I don't know what to say. How can I repay you?" I sputtered out. She smiled and shook her head in reply.

"Seeing you make Clove something beautiful is payment enough." I took the fabric inside, and pulled out a few pieces of paper to sketch designs on. I had no idea what to make for Clove, who was the furthest thing from a girly girl as you could get. Women in this district were crazy, and very masculine. Clove wasn't that manly, but she definitely dressed for functionality, and not to look pretty. But she'd have to be dressed to impress for Presentation, and more importantly, the first night. The first night would be presenting her to the Council of Elders, and the tradition was to wear red, black, gray, or white. My pencil darted across the page as inspiration came to me, and slowly, the dress began to take shape. It was everything a Presentation dress should be- elegant, dangerous, and extremely beautiful. I carefully tucked the design and the fabric away upstairs. As an extra precaution in case Cato woke up, I switched the doorknob, and locked it from the outside. I didn't want to be on the receiving end of his muscles, or find out how he got them in the first place.

As soon as I saw Clove at the Academy, I couldn't help the smile that poured onto my face. She was going to love the dress- I mean she had to. Just as quickly as the smile appeared, it melted away.

"Hey, um, don't freak out okay? But there's a guy from the Academy upstairs in the guest room." I rushed out in one breath, halfway hoping that Clove would just shrug it off.

"What." Each letter was carefully enunciated, and I flinched. Clove's face's had gone from her usual mask to confusion in a matter of seconds.

"There's a guy from the Academy upstairs. He's under morphling right now, but I don't want to be there alone when he wakes up. His name is Cato." Clove's face screwed up in confusion, and then slowly gave way to humor.

"You have," laugh, "a tribute," laugh, "who is set," laugh, "to Volunteer this year," laugh, "in our house," laugh, "alone?" I rolled my eyes in irritation before playfully hitting her on the arm.

"Clove, this isn't funny!" I laughed. The more she laughed, the more humorous I found the situation. In my house, there was a future tribute and most likely Hunger Games victor, and I thought a measly lock was going to keep him out of the rest of the house. In a rare moment of affection, Clove wrapped her arm around my waist, and mine around hers, and together we walked home. We maybe total opposites, but everyone knew that we were sisters.

At the house, we hung up our coats, and took off our boots, before Clove slowly drew one of her knives just in case.

"I swear, if you make me have to stitch him up again…" I trailed off, standing behind her as she turned the lock.

"Relax, he'll be fine. He'll just bleed a little… or a lot." She muttered. I whacked her again, and together, we charged into the room, her more gracefully than me. Which is how I ended up slipping on the rug, and landing in a heap on the floor. How lovely. This is what I get for not training.

"Nice going, Bloodbath." Here, Bloodbath is the equivalent of calling someone an idiot. But I was so used to being called that by now, that I just didn't really care. Plus Clove didn't really mean it.

"Shut up." I snarled, looking at Cato's motionless form on the bed. He was still out cold, and just from the looks of things, would be for another few hours. In his sleep, he looked completely harmless. It was now that I finally got a good look at him. Just like Cain, he was blessed with very, very nice genetics. He had light blonde hair, which stuck up slightly while he was sleeping, and much like his younger brother, had some serious muscles going on. His biceps swelled smooth and hard from his arms, and the bands of muscles trailed all down his chest and stomach. I had almost forgotten that in the middle of all the chaos, I'd cut off his shirt. He had to have been one of the most attractive men I had ever seen, and I was in complete awe. I mean no one was that good looking. From his full pink lips to the trail of dark hair leading to the edge of his pants, every inch of him was pure perfection.

"Careful sweetheart, you're drooling." Subconsciously, I swiped at my chin for saliva, before glowering at Clove. For a younger sibling, she sure loved to goad me for all she was worth. She was fiercely loyal, and the only one officially allowed to make fun of me. Talk about hypocritical. I nudged her again before relaxing. Cato would be out for another couple of hours, during which I could make dinner, and then work on a few more sketches if I wanted. Putting Clove (and Cato for that matter) out of my mind, I set off downstairs.

"I'm going to go start dinner. You reek Clove, take a bath." She stomped to the bathroom and slammed the door shut, causing the walls of the house to shudder. In the kitchen, I started cooking dinner. Every night had to be something packed with protein and vitamins and everything that a growing tribute would need for combat training. For lunch at the Academy, they took a daily blood sample, and then issued you food based off it. Most of the time I just tried not to mess up dinner too badly. Cooking was calming. It was simple. My shoulders relaxed as I chopped vegetables to go into tonight's soup, and the homemade stock made me feel right at home. We may not have been rich, but we were well off enough that we could afford meat and groceries when we wanted them, and I made sure that none of it ever went to waste. I used everything when I cooked, and it was good for us. When my mother was around she was always in the kitchen. I was no replacement by any means, but I just tried to make sure that Clove wasn't hungry and didn't get into too much trouble at training.

"Where's Father?" Clove's voice startled me, and I managed to slice my hand open.

"Dammit, Clove. Look what you made me do." I snapped, and blotted the blood away with a towel, wrapping a small bandage into place. She flicked her dark braid back over her shoulder, and rolled her eyes.

"It's not my fault you're so fucking clumsy."

"Watch your mouth. Anyway-"

"He's usually always home by this time, you know." Clove interrupted, pointing out of the window.

I glanced out of the window. Father always arrived home after sunset, and the sky was well on its way to nightfall.

"He'll be home soon, Clove, relax," I put the lid on the pot and let it simmer, "in the meantime, why don't you bring me your uniforms and you can help me with laundry." She wasn't excited, but completed the task anyway without complaint.

In the washroom, both of us worked silently with a bar of soap each to do the laundry for this week. Laundry was never my favorite, and the harsh soap we had to use killed my already-raw hands. After everything was washed, we wrung it all out, and hung the damp clothes on the clothesline. Everything I did, I did it the exact way that Mother had done things. Dad and I were the only ones that really remembered her, and I think that deep down it gave him some peace of mind. Clove was only six when she died, and she barely remembers anything. Not that she'd tell me about it anyways. There were just some things that you didn't talk about.

"Hey girls," My dad walking out to us and greeted both of us, "there was an explosion at the quarry today. We lost a lot of good men tonight." The quarry was the most dangerous job you could have in the district. Explosions and cave-in's were too common, not to mention the rock dust. But the fact of the matter was, if you weren't a student, trainer, or shop owner, you worked in the quarry. I hated Father being there all the time.

"I'm sorry Father." I said, leaning on him. Having worked there for twenty plus years, he looked so much older than 38.

"I'm just going to go upstairs. Goodnight girls." He turned to walk up stairs, and Clove shot out from behind me, latching onto his arm and pulling him back into the kitchen.

"No! You can't go up there!" Shoot. I had forgotten that Cato was still up there.

"I mean you haven't even had dinner yet! Let me get you some soup!" I recovered weakly. My lying skills definitely needed a lot of work.

"Well I guess so." My heart was hammering, and I gestured to Clove once his back was turned that I was going upstairs to check on Cato. I took the stairs two at a time to get to him, forcing the door open. My jaw dropped open in shock as soon as I swung open the door. The damn bed was empty. As in that 200 pound piece of muscle somehow dragged his drugged self out of that bed, and most likely out of the window, given the fluttering curtains.

"Looking for me, princess?" I froze at the feeling of cold, sharp metal at my neck. Despite the situation, I couldn't help but be a little exasperated. _What was it with Academy guys and putting a knife to my neck? Now it definitely not the time for sarcasm Andy. The human embodiment of perfection has a knife against your neck and he wants to kill you!_ This man was first in the Academy, and I really didn't want to do anything to encourage him.

"What? You're not going to beg me to spare you?" Cato slurred from behind me. No noise came from my mouth. He was still under the influence of the morphling, and if I moved, he was liable to accidentally slit my throat. At least I hoped it would be accidental.

"Come on princess; beg for me," I could feel his lips brush against my ear, and I shuddered slightly as his rough hand crept across my hips and settled there. More of his weight leaned against my back, pressing our hips together, "I want to hear your scream my name."

"You know, you're pretty good looking- I wouldn't mind having a little fun with you sometime." The hand that was previously on my hip began to make its way up, and I silently begged Clove to get up the stairs and help me. I was scared, and even if I wanted to disarm him and attack him, I knew that I wouldn't be able to do it fast enough, and I'd be lying on the floor bleeding in seconds.

His hand lingered on my ribs, before slowly cupping the bottom of my breast, and I nearly choked. As terrified as I was, I couldn't help but feel the tiniest bit of pleasure at the way he was touching me. My breath quickened, and I could feel myself heaving under Cato's touch, and it felt as if the weight of the world was pressing down on me. Any second now, it would become too much.

"Hey, how's it going," Clove burst through the door, "oh hell no." She immediately drew one of her knives and charged at Cato.

Cato's arm instantly released me to protect himself, and I fell to the floor in a heap. When I looked up, Clove ducked, and disarmed him with ease. It wasn't much of a fight, and she dodged to the right, rolled, and had him pinned with his arm-twisted behind his back in such a way that if he moved, it would take months to heal properly, even with all of the threats Cain would be sure to throw out.

"You're lucky I don't kill you now, you bastard." She seethed, putting more pressure on his arm. Cato grunted in pain, but said nothing. Anger was radiating off of Clove in waves, and I was frozen in place.

"Don't just stand there, Andy. Get some morphling, and tie him up. I have this handled, don't I, limp dick?" I cringed at her vulgarity, but did as she said nonetheless. I can't even remember jabbing more medicine into Cato's arm, or tying both of his arms to the bed frame, or Clove shoving one of her knives into my hands and telling me to protect myself. I was just numb. Scared would be more appropriate. I was scared. And the worst part was that I knew Cato was just crazy enough to do what he was threatening in that moment. He would've easily slit my throat right then and there and not had any problem with it. I doubt that he would've even cared – he had trained his entire life for moments like this. Everyone in the district who showed the least bit of lethality as a child was hauled off to training and then brought up to try to kill people like me.

So I sat there in the armchair Clove had pushed me into hours ago, clutching the knife like it was my lifeline, my eyes never straying from Cato's sleeping form for more than a minute. There was no way I was going to give him even half a chance to overtake me again, and I didn't know how long the medicine was going to last this time around. They were old drugs, and I knew that the effectiveness wasn't as good as the newer stuff the Capitol seemed to come out with daily. My eyes began to droop with sleep, and it became harder and harder to remain awake as time passed. I looked at my beat-up watch, only to discover that it was nearly two a.m., and I would have to be up in three hours to wake Clove up for training anyway.

"Damn." I whispered. It was slightly stupid and reckless to try to sleep, even with Cato drugged and tied to the bed, but my body was so tired, and suddenly my least favorite chair in the whole house didn't seem so bad anymore. Almost in a complete haze, I sleepily pulled a quilt over my legs, and curled further into the chair, closing my eyes, and within seconds I was asleep.


End file.
